


Military Secret

by PRllNCE



Category: Senjou no Valkyria | Valkyria Chronicles
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Edgeplay, Feathers & Featherplay, Gags, Gangbang, Humiliation, Large Breasts, Masturbation, Mind Break, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Tickling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Female Character, POV First Person, Roughness, Sex Toys, Sixsome, Tickling, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PRllNCE/pseuds/PRllNCE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's exam season for the military cadets of Gallia, and one team of five in particular has been given a rather unusual task for their grading; in a cold jail cell underground, the sight of a strung-up, naked valkyria reaches them, and their commanding officer leaves them with these words: "Make her come, but only by tickling her."</p><p>Once for rank C.<br/>Five times for rank B.<br/>Ten times for rank A.</p><p>All the cadets can do is roll up their sleeves while the captured Brigadier General Selvaria Bles reaches inside herself for any protection against her by far biggest weakness yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rank C

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely a fantasy scenario and does not reflect the views of the writer. Any noncon or implied noncon piece of mine is fictional play only, and I do not fetishize the practice itself or the trauma that follows. Respect consent, take care when reading my work and please stay safe.

I came to with a shudder and a hitch in my breath, as if my body had shaken itself awake to warn me of impending danger. It was a nice enough effort but a little too late; the danger was as close and obvious as the cold, oppressive metal clasped around my ankles and wrists. Even my toes were bound and separated. As a warrior--and more importantly, as a valkyria--to have even allowed myself to lose consciousness to the point of capture and imprisonment spoke ill of me.

   Surely the Gallians would attempt to torture me into revealing military secrets. That much I could easily gather from my current position, suspended naked in the air with even my genitals exposed. They must have thought they could rise above their enemy by humiliating me, but the loyalty and love I feel for my liege far surpasses such trifles. My body belongs to His Excellency and His army; there was no reason to burden myself with concerns of flesh.

   Although, while being left without armour or weapons for protection was a conundrum, removing these restraints and passing through unnoticed would have been a challenge either way. First I needed to know where I was kept in order to act. Which facility was this? Who was in charge? How would I get information out of them with both a blindfold and a gag wrapped around my face?

   It turned out I would have little time to figure this out, as the door to my cell opened with an excruciating cry and scattered footsteps approached. How many were they? Five, maybe six? No matter. The chains stretching out my body clicked and rattled as I steeled myself to take on whatever they had prepared to break me.

   "Brigadier General Selvaria Bles," said a smug, booming voice. It was more of a declaration or an introduction than a greeting so I assumed it wasn't directed to me but to the other people in the room. I felt rather scrutinized. Biting down on the tight piece of fabric strapped over my mouth, I ordered myself to remain calm; there was nothing these vermin could do to me that would in any way benefit them.

   I heard then a pair of heavy boots approach and braced myself before I was delivered a searing slap to my chest, sending my naked breast flying like a pendulum. It must have been a humorous sight indeed, as it was followed by thundering laughter from the same man who had spoken prior. Based on his demeanour I presumed he was a high-ranking officer.

   " _This_ is your exam, kiddos," he announced.

   An array of confused muttering bounced off the walls. I felt inclined to join them. "Exam?" asked what I assumed was a young girl, taking the word straight out of my mouth. "Forgive my disrespect, sir, but... what part of this is supposed to be our exam?"

   "Yeah!" a boy chimed in. "I mean that's... _General_ Bles. Not only is it probably dangerous for mere cadets to be alone with her, but what can _we_ do that would even qualify?"

   "Look at her, though," said another, a more laid back-sounding boy. "She's all tied up with nowhere to go. It doesn't matter what we'll be judged on; we could do anything to her if we wanted to."

   From the sound of it, these were all military academy children. I was almost insulted at the notion; what was their angle, sending cadets to deal with me?

   "Everybody _shut it_ ," barked the officer, then cleared his throat before he continued. "This woman here is Maximillian's pet; she ain't gonna reveal a thing to us if we interrogate her, and if you had a brain cell in your frail little bodies you'd know that the army is too busy to sit down for tea with this Imperial freak show. As I'm officially tasked with her now, _and_ your esteemed babysitter, I figured this was a great opportunity for you to show how ruthless you can be for the sake of your country."

   So they're planning on having children perform torture? Despite them being the enemy, I pitied these cadets; what a sick way to teach. Although I suppose I shouldn't be one to talk.

   "Yes--the tiny one--what do you want? You don't have to raise your hand."

   "Um, sir... Are you saying... we'll be ranked on... torture?"

   Another laugh, louder this time. I despised this man.

   "Torture!? Well, I suppose you could look at it that way. But believe me, this is nothing so crude. She's going to enjoy it for sure."

   _I despised this man._

His heavy boots began stomping around the cell as he explained the objective. "All you have to do is make her _come_." It was an objective unlike anything I'd ever encountered in military life, and that was saying a lot. It was also outrageously obscene; this boorish man had deluded himself into quite the fantasy, and as if that wasn't bad enough he was now roping these children into it.

   "Um..."

   "I told you, you don't have to raise your hand."

   "I'm sorry, sir... But I'm not exactly sure what that means. Come? Isn't she already here?"

   The boots planted themselves into the floor.

   "Come! Orgasm! Climax! Whatever you want to call it. That's all you have to do."

   I winced. They were going to be here for a long time in that case; being violated didn't sound like a very satisfying prospect. My limbs were already aching from being strung up so tightly; if they wanted to make me feel good for whatever reason, I'd need to be comfortable. I... guessed so. I'd never actually experienced it but I'd heard about it.

   "Now, you're not competing against each other so just remember that you're a team and that you'll be graded as one. I've set it up like so: Once for rank C, five times for rank B, and ten times for rank A."

   " _Ten times_?" they clamoured.

   "We have to make her come ten times for an A?" griped one of the boys in disappointment. He was right to be disappointed.

   "Should be easy enough," said the laid back one. "Those knockers look heavier than _me_ ; they could probably keep me going forever."

   "Creep..." muttered a girl.

   "I might have to let you down there, kiddo, because there's a catch. Yes, you have to make her come to pass the test, but you can't do it any old-fashioned way. No fondling those monster tits or whipping out your little guns. You're only allowed to make her come by _tickling_ her."

   I flinched, sending a rattle throughout my restraints. I had no experience in regards to intimacy or climaxing, but one thing I did know of was being tickled. Nobody had actively tried to tickle me before so I didn't know to that extent, but what I did know was that I was too ticklish for comfort; accidentally getting poked by someone--or something--down to even a soft breeze against my skin would make me jump. How would it feel to be actually tickled by an entire group of people, let alone for as long as sending me into orgasm--which I knew wasn't likely to ever happen. It didn't matter what that officer claimed; this was torture, and probably the only kind I had not thought to prepare for.

   "Can someone come from that?" one of the boys muttered, mirroring my thoughts.

   "If it was easy, it wouldn't be an exam now would it. Don't worry, it's not like one of those trick questions; I wouldn't have you kiddos do this if I didn't think it was possible."

   He started moving again, walking over to stand next to me. Once I could feel his oppressive odour hit my nose I realized my other senses had been severely heightened, presumably after being blindfolded and gagged for so long.

   "I've provided y'all with some tools to help you out, if you need it. You can also adjust her position to suit your needs. Whatever your creative little minds can conjure up, as long as you only tickle her."

   "Do we get extra points for creativity?" asked a deadpan girl, no doubt as a joke.

   "Tell you what... Why not? Sounds fun."

   And with that, the heavy boots disappeared beyond the cell door and I was left alone with the cadets and their 'exam'.

   After some intensely awkward silence, the girl who always raised her hand spoke up.

   "So... how do we do this?"

   "Do we only tickle her erogenous zones? She's not gonna come otherwise, right?"

   "Why? She's so exposed, we've got all these tools... And there's five of us, so there'd be no room if we don't spread out."

   It would seem this had spurred a discussion. While they talked amongst themselves I attempted to twist my hand into slipping out of the chains, but it only chafed madly without budging an inch. I would have to make the children release me somehow.

   And I would have loved to speculate more on how to do that, but my train of thought was rudely interrupted by tiny, stiff bristles lightly dancing on my left nipple. I recoiled so hard at the sensation that I almost bit my tongue, resulting in scattered giggles throughout the room. They didn't stop at my reaction. Against my better judgment I let out staggered moans into the gag with every flick of the brush. Every time it hit me I wondered wildly how such a light touch could possibly send me into such agony, effectively erasing my thoughts and rendering it impossible for me to plan my way out.

   "D-do the other one too."

   "Mmph...!"

   The bristles suddenly multiplied. My body twisted back and forth on its own in a wild attempt to get them off of me, but they didn't cease; no matter how I positioned myself the brushes didn't budge from my nipples and just kept moving up and down, up and down, circling and circling.

   "They're so sensitive," said a boy in astonishment. "Looks like they're hard as rocks now."

   "They're huge too, like the rest of her chest. How does she live with monsters like these?" mumbled the deadpan girl.

   "I don't know, but if the rest of her is this ticklish she's gonna die by the end of this exam, not come."

   It was true; I was ticklish, much more than I initially thought. As I felt beads of sweat trickle down my back, I realized I was actually in fear. They had barely started and I, Selvaria Bles, was in _fear_. It already tickled too much, even my voice was shot from trying and failing not to moan. I... couldn't help it.

   "Okay, spread out and find other spots."

  Gingerly, the cadets circled around me. It felt as if they were afraid to touch me, and I couldn't blame them; they'd no doubt heard tales of the 'witch General' of the Empire. The brushes assaulting my stiffened nipples slowed to a malicious tease and I could only hope they'd never conquer their fear.

   "Alright... um... here."

    I could feel the breath of the young girl at my back as she prepared herself and shuddered. Next thing I knew, a jolt cracked through my body when her dainty fingers descended on my ribs. Already I found myself howling into my gag as she played with them gently, feminine fingernails trailing up and down my sides while the sensation from the brushes intensified. Since they got a reaction out of me it only meant one thing to them: don't stop. So the girl didn't stop. She kept on carefully counting each rib as her fingers danced up and down in an asymmetrical fashion. Whenever her right hand reached my hip, her left would graze my underarm. It took everything I had not to flinch too badly when it did; it tickled madly there and I did not want her to catch on. It turned out she didn't, but there were unfortunately four other people in the room to take note of it.

   The laid back young man stomped towards me with smug determination and rummaged through the pile of tools. I tried to pinpoint his location after that but my own suffering voice and the tingling sensations from my sides and breasts drowned any other sounds and senses. But the moment he placed his newly acquired weapons on my underarms I knew exactly what they were; I used one to brush my excessively long hair every morning. The next moment was pure white noise.

   I could feel myself shriek like a banshee before breaking out into the most shameful of laughter reverberating throughout the cell. This wasn't delicate nails making light travels across my sides or tiny bristles gently hugging my nipples. These were rough hairbrushes rapidly sweeping every inch of my underarms with violent intent. My body did everything in its power to escape--attempting to bend and arch and contort--but with every hint of resistance, the merciless cadet and his ridiculous dual-wielded hairbrushes tickled me harder and faster as if to punish me for my defiance. He was evidently having the time of his life putting me through this hell.

   "The 'cold, unfeeling witch' has some euphoria in her after all," he said with a tinge of pride. "Anyone else wanna try her out?"

   In between the tears of laughter and the scratchy sound of brushes annihilating my most sensitive spots, I realized that this was far from over; there were two cadets left.

   "I kind of want to try these quills," said one. "They've got to be good. I can barely touch them, even; they tickle my hands."

   A renewed sense of terror sprouted in my chest and I started sweating profusely. I already couldn't take any more of this. All I could do was inwardly beg and pray that a monster like that feather would stay far away from my feet; there were times when I couldn't even walk barefoot in certain places because I'm too ticklish. Sand especially was a nightmare.

   Perhaps I should never have even hoped.

   "Something like that would probably work on her feet. Like, between the toes or something. How many feathers do we have?"

   "Umm, one for each of us."

   "Oh, great. If you can hold them all, use 'em. She's toe-tied and all so it should be smooth sailing. Points for creativity, you know?"

   "You got it."

   I had to take a moment to consider what he'd just said. 'Points for creativity'. This was an exam, so it meant they had to be evaluated; did that mean someone was watching right now? Who? How many?

   _Agony._ Raw, despair-inducing _agony_.

   Five quills, soft and stiff alike, snaked between my toes with torturous precision, brutally breaking down the door to my sweetest spots. Slowly, so slowly, they caressed back and forth, back and forth, birthing sensations I never even knew existed. It was too gentle, yet too rough. It tickled. By all that was holy, it tickled. I screamed; screamed how much it tickled; how much I wanted it to stop; how ticklish I was. The cell was filled with muffled begging, shrieks of "Not there, not there, it tickles, it tickles, anywhere but there", but even if the cadets could hear me through the gag--now wet from my spit--surely they wouldn't care.

   And there was one cadet left.

   Just as I placed my focus on this last person, bracing myself for whatever they might do, the other four switched it up. "She loves the hairbrushes," the ruthless one said. "Get her sides and feet."

   They did as they were told.

   My underarms. My ribs and waist and stomach. My feet. The brushes were _everywhere_.

   I groaned loudly in surprise. I didn't know anything could tickle to this extent but it did. My body shook with violent staggering jolts, my voice following along making absurd noises. At this point I wasn't sure if I was laughing, moaning or screaming but it might have been all of those.

   These cadets, these _children_ , ravaged my naked body until everything felt sore, and still they continued. They tickled every inch of me _raw_ , and all I could do was shake and bounce and wail and make them laugh at my nonsensical misery. Although as it turned out, that wasn't all I made them do. I wasn't entirely certain of it at first, but I could hear a different sound as it went on; there were repetitive motions and some soft groaning coming from the boys. Eventually, I even heard the girls do the same. Once I noticed that some of the brushes had withdrawn I connected the dots; the cadets were enjoying this, and not in a purely sadistic manner. They were all pleasuring themselves from watching me. These people who weren't even full adults yet got off on tickle torturing me and watching me respond like this. It made something other than terror sprout inside me and I did not like it. I did not want it. It tingled, it made my face flush and my hips roll.

   _Stop... Don't make that sound. Don't get off on this. It's doing things to me._

"Oh God..." one of the boys moaned. His breath hitched and the next thing I knew something was splattered across my chest. It was sticky and warm and I was glad I couldn't see it as it slowly dripped from my breasts and onto the floor. "Sorry," he added bashfully. "She's so hot like this, I couldn't..."

   "Me too," said the ruthless one. "Watching those things bounce like that is pretty surreal. They look even better now, to be honest."

   I was splattered again. What was it about my chest that these people enjoyed so much?

   A high-pitched sound interrupted my thoughts; the deadpan girl's moans were building up, louder and louder and brimming with bliss until she evidently made herself come.

   "Woah!" the others echoed, impressed.

   "That was a big one, girl."

   What was with these people? Had they no boundaries with each other?

   She took a moment to breathe, audibly shaking from the aftermath as she kept teasing herself.

   "I've still got a few in me," she said, not at all deadpan now but rather drenched in glee. "Ahh... Just don't stop tickling her. Tickle her more! It feels so good..."

   "Hey now, we're supposed to be a team here. You can't just sit there by yourself and jerk off, come here and help out."

   "Yeah, we're supposed to make _her_ come."

   "Mmm... fine..."

   She got up to grab something from the pile as the devilish brushes started moving again, slower this time because a few of the cadets were sluggish from just climaxing, but it still tickled far too much somehow; I think I suddenly became more sensitive.

   "You wanna make her come, you gotta get the most ticklish spot on her entire body," the girl declared.

   "Wh-where's that?"

   She didn't respond. Instead, she got on her knees in front of me and gingerly placed her hand above my genitalia, pulling at the hood to reveal the tender spot underneath.

   "Ri--ght here... On the sensitive little clit..."

   The petite tip of a feather descended on my clitoris, effectively sending me into a very different state of agony.

   "Mmh...! Mmh! Mmmhh!!"

   "There we go... I'll keep teasing her here, so you get your hands off your junk and don't stop tickling her whatever you do. If you can go faster, go faster. Just be as brutal as you can and don't let any part of her body rest. That'll be a great contrast to my gentle torment down here."

   No. It was too much. It was far, far too much. To my intense grievance, they did exactly what she told them; if any pore on me existed that wasn't being tickled, it didn't anymore. The cadets did everything in their power to find and conquer these places. They acted like they owned my skin, like it was theirs to torture for eternity. And the deadpan girl, now proclaiming herself the leader of this vicious crew, owned my clit to brush and tease for beyond that eternity.

   "Oooh, just like that, huh, General? You like it right there?" she mocked with a honeyed voice.

   "Mmmphh!!"

   "Heehee, you got it. I'll keep going, don't worry."

   My skin was sore and I'm sure it was visible, yet the vicious cadets kept hounding me with their brushes. I was at the point where I was even certain I could distinguish which person held which brush.

   The laid back boy was the ruthless one who liked my underarms; he performed the most cruelly, wielding his tools like he was scrubbing dirt off the deck of a ship. He never left my torso, specifically my sides and aforementioned underarms, coarsely moving up and down in a deliberately irregular fashion in order to throw me off. He was enjoying every second of it; I could feel his snickering breath at my neck at all times. As for myself, my reactions were beyond snickering; I howled with erratic laughter and convulsed wildly with every touch. The exertion made me so thoroughly soaked in sweat, it tickled even more; this traitorous body of mine was so wet it acted as a form of lubricant for the tools.

   I wasn't sure why I was laughing. I didn't want to laugh. But I couldn't stop, and the way I let myself sound was humiliating on various levels.

   One of the cadets had never spoken throughout this ordeal and I recognized them from the way they moved their hands. It was as if they'd done this before. At the moment they were one of the people operating by my soles, and the way they used their brush was the most agonizing tease I'd ever experienced; sometimes fast, sometimes slow, always with just enough pressure and just in the right place at all times. I was disgusted with myself for feeling impressed but they were just that good. It felt... good. It was quite the bizarre fashion but I found myself looking forward to the feeling of their hairbrush annihilating my sensitive mounds. Every time they so much as moved, I writhed in surprise, causing my laughter to become high-pitched and strange.

   The tiny girl, the one who always raised her hand, now used that same hand to manoeuvre the feathers between my toes. But those had apparently not been enough; she'd also gotten out a pair of what felt like toothbrushes and started delicately scrubbing my toes. It was such a burning sensation that I would groan powerfully in pain every time she hit a sweet spot. She was a rather careful sort; even though she'd taken part in brutal torture, she still spoke to me in a small, gentle voice as if to soothe me. "Tickle, tickle, tickle," she whispered softly as her feathers kissed my most tender of places. It sent me into the wildest of frenzies, making me bite down so hard on the gag that I started drooling everywhere.

   Then there was the innocent boy who had proven he was not so innocent after all once he'd released his sticky mess onto my breasts. He seemed quite enamoured with them in general; he'd never once left my nipples untouched. He would alternate between tools in a way that never allowed me to quite get used to the sensation; sometimes it was paint or toothbrushes, sometimes it was feathers, sometimes he just used his fingers to play with them. Sometimes he licked them. Since it still tickled I assumed he was given a free pass, but the fact that he'd done so left me shaking with distress; my nipples were wet with spit, and like the rest of my body had become more susceptible and sensitive due to it. Whatever he had planned for them this time, I could only pray that it wouldn't tickle too much.

   Of course, I knew there was no way I'd be that lucky.

   This mischievous boy had chosen some softer paintbrushes instead of the stiff ones, intending to lightly tease me into further misery. It worked without a hitch; my laughter, sounding only absurd at this point, mixed with stumbling moans of confused pleasure. My ravaged body was sent into spasm after spasm, every shake symbolizing my pleading him to stop. My nipples had been made so stiff it felt like they could pierce something, but this didn't stop the boy from painting every inch of them. He circled around the areolas, then moved back up to gently dab the tips, sending a shockwave of thrill into my system. Everything was flashing before me.

   Lastly, the deadpan--or rather, the perverted--girl. She spread me out hard before placing her little tongue on my clit and licking it with swift flicks. Even though she must have tickled herself this way, she still wouldn't let the feather budge. It was a nightmare team of a wet, nimble tongue and a stiff yet soft feather. I felt like bombs were being dropped inside my stomach and my moan-filled laughter staggered wildly from the sensation, my eyes rolling far up into my head and my body bouncing and shaking. The sound of my soaked breasts hitting my stomach was almost more embarrassing than the sound of my unstable voice bouncing off the walls. I must have sounded like an animal in heat. What I felt like, however, was a different story.

   I felt like I was going to come.

   If the silent one kept tickling my feet so amazingly good, I'd come.

   If the ruthless one kept torturing my sides so with such monstrous fervour, I'd come.

   If the shy one kept taunting me with that soft chanting, that incessant "tickle, tickle, tickle", I'd come.

   If the not so innocent one kept teasing my nipples with such fanatical desire, I'd come.

   If the perverted girl kept tickling my clit like that, I'd... I'd...

   "Mmhh... ghmmhm!! Cmmmgh!!"

   "What's that, General? You're gonna come?"

   They moved faster. They moved harder.

   "Go on, come for us."

   Faster. Harder.

   "What are you waiting for, tickle slut?"

   F... fa... ster. Ha... rder...!

   "Aren't you gonna come from being tickled, you deprived witch? Doesn't it feel so good right here?"

   My brain was itching.

   "You want more? Want me to give you more?"

   My brain tickled.

   "Ooh, you take it so good... Harder? You want it harder?"

   It tickled! It tickled! It tickled so much!

   "We're gonna destroy you, _pig_."

   _It felt so good_!

   _It tickled so good_!!

   "And you're gonna beg and pray we never stop."

   They ripped out my gag just in time to hear me scream like I'd never screamed before.


	2. Rank C: The Hard Way Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selvaria may have been put out of commission for a while, but all this time she refused to lie down in defeat. As soon as she sees an opening, she makes a break for it in nothing but her Birthday suit, hoping to find the way out of this misery as well as knock some people down while she's at it. But instead, she comes across something quite incriminating and gets distracted--very distracted.
> 
> Are these people truly Gallians? What she finds behind a set of closed doors begs to differ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI WHEN AM I NOT GOING HAYWIRE  
> i haven't proofread this yet so if there are any mistakes i'll catch them later! sorry!! (*_ _)人

I fell to the cold, unforgiving ground with a loud thud. Few things knocked the air out of me so easily as a fall after that ordeal. My body--sensitive, raw and throbbing from its recent climax--remained unmoving for what felt like a timeless eternity while voices danced around me like a distorted mist of sound. There was a hint of a me at the back of my head whom would try to call on my valkyria powers, but my energy had been utterly sapped. All I could do was keep still and try to regain my focus along with any feeling to my limbs.

   I recalled that I'd be able to move them now that I'd been released from the chains. I was still toe-tied and my feet were cramping up, but with some effort I should be able to find an opening.

   The cadets had just acquired their rank and completed their exam so they were likely elated over their success, not to mention tired from the endeavour alone. Now, should they only be content with a C rank, it would mean that _my_ part in that endeavour had ended, at least for the time being.

   I listened to them speak amongst themselves and wondered how they could shake off the atmosphere in this room with such ease. Was this how Gallians normally acted, or was it just the military academy in general? Or perhaps it was only these children? I couldn't imagine prisoners from the Empire having been set aside for each team eligible for an exam; was this simply a personal agenda using hard-working, impressionable youths?

   I pulled off the sash blinding me and braced myself against the light. My eyes, naturally red in colour but especially so after the laughter-born tears, scanned the jail cell for any indication that somebody was watching. For all I knew, they were right on the other side of that wall. But my strength still would not return so I couldn't go find out for myself. By now I was beginning to wonder if something had been done to me prior to my awakening.

   No more games, I told myself. I needed to figure out how to use these kids and this place to my advantage in order to get back to His Excellency. Now that the fabric was out of my mouth I could actually speak to them.

   "You five," I started, clearing my throat after hearing just how shot my voice was. I looked up to see them staring back at me and felt relief at finally catching their attention in a manner I appreciated. "Do you truly believe this to be an exam?" I asked them.

   The cadets had faces after all. It was strange seeing them now; mere children in their late teens, yet considering what they so happily did to me the innocence in their faces gave off an abnormal, unsettling feel.

   "How would someone rank you if they could not see you the result of your 'work'?" I baited, hoping for a chance that they might reveal something worthwhile.

   But I was to be sorely disappointed.

   "Who cares?" said miss Pervert, now back to being deadpan.

   "We don't... question our superiors," said the small girl.

   I thought it was her being naïve at first, but upon second glance I swore I saw fear. This place was most certainly messed up.

   "And since we were told to tickle you... well, we gotta," said mister Ruthless. He was the tallest of them and no doubt thought he was also the strongest. I saw eyes like that on a daily basis; men like him think beyond the world of themselves but can't handle a loss to save their lives. If he was anything like them, he was a leech; if someone tied him up like they did me, he would never handle it. I scoffed inwardly. If that was indeed a scenario, I would humiliate him to tears and make him thank me.

   "Well, you did what he told you. In fact, you went above and beyond. Since you've completed your mission, there's hardly a need for an encore."

   "No way!" exclaimed the shy boy. He too was tall, but the lanky sort; he was terribly lithe and looked a tad unsteady compared to mister Ruthless with his wide, confident stance. "If my team walks away with the lowest rank, I'll just... be laughed at."

   "I don't really care what the others think of me, but he's got the right of it," said Deadpan Pervert. These names were getting terribly inconsistent in my attempt to remember who they all were. "I'm not going anywhere without my A rank. And since we're a _team_ and all, that means you guys stay here too."

   It seemed they would really not listen to reason. I had feared as much. Gathering whatever strength I had left in the aftermath of this torturous experience, I steadily placed my palms on the floor, readying myself to lunge. Even in this weakened state, naked and deprived, a handful of cadets could never hope to suppress me. They really ought to have kept me tied up.

   I headed for the biggest one first. My sudden dash took him by surprise and impaired his posture, allowing a swift slide kick to his ankles to drop him straight to the floor. The others were equally slow to react but the majority turned heel and went after me instead of checking on their teammate. In all their haste, one even managed to slip on some drops of seminal fluid and lose their balance, but the other quickly reached out to grab my hair as soon as my hands found the door handle. I spun around hard, holding my silvery locks in place, and the attempt was thwarted as the miserable cadet was sent flying into the wall. This gave me a moment to pull the handle up and slip outside. Before I moved further I gave myself more time by placing my weight against the heavy door, frigid against my exposed skin, and pushing it shut. I would find myself some clothes and protection later; for now I was relieved to simply be free of the stagnant air in there.

   I sprinted down the narrow hallway, careful not to run into anyone as I navigated through the unfamiliar facility. At times I would hear footsteps and voices nearby, during which I'd withdraw elsewhere to be safe. I'm sure I could take out a few soldiers but seeing as I couldn't even activate my powers right now it was better to stay under the radar. The cadets were surely looking to apprehend my by now as well and I did not wish to be outnumbered; I needed weapons badly. A gun, a knife, a walking stick--anything!

   The sound of bare feet against metal echoed throughout the empty corridor, soon overpowered by voices I recognized; they were already here. I turned right at the next intersection and sped down the entirety of the segment until I reached some stacked boxes of equipment and explosives about to be transported. I crouched behind them and listened, hoping to make use of their contents as soon as my pursuers would leave. But what I heard then wasn't the cadets looking to find me; there was a different noise, muffled by another heavy door like the one keeping me locked in earlier. I slowly pulled myself up, letting my hand linger on the equipment box for a while longer as I told myself I'd be back in a second. Cautiously I approached the cell door and pressed my back against the wall next to it. I allowed myself a moment to breathe some calm into my tense body before gingerly placing my fingers on the door slot and pulling it open. The noise, previously so faint and indistinct, now came crashing through the small opening and left me distraught, my mouth agape.

   Inside was a girl, naked and bound like myself prior. The only thing she wore was a red baking headscarf decorating her chestnut brown hair. I could spot that and her long pigtails a mile away on a crowded battlefield of billowy smoke; that was Alicia Melchiott of the Gallia military's Squad 7. What was she doing here imprisoned by her own countrymen? And what I would really like to know was, why was she being treated just like me, an enemy soldier?

   The noise I'd been hearing was one of her laughing. It rang loudly through the opening, and like during my experience it mixed with moans and tears but there was also no shortage of begging. Her lithe body twisted and bounced as her tiny voice pleaded for mercy, however considering how hard she was stretched out no manner of resistance would save her.

   I couldn't move. I didn't want to hear it, but I did. I didn't want to watch, but I found myself glued to the cell door, my eyes wide and focused on that supposed valkyria sister of mine and the hands moving across every inch of her bared frame.

   "Dohon't t-tickle me anymoooore," she begged, again and again. "Pleahease stooop...! Don't tickle me like that!"

   I couldn't quite make out how many were inside but I believe it was another team of cadets. What I definitely couldn't figure out was why one of their own was part of their twisted exams. If I didn't understand it before, I most certainly was at even more of a loss now. She was the enemy, yes, but I sympathized with her on a severe level after having been put through the same thing. It wasn't often that I harboured such feelings, but in this place it would seem we had a common enemy instead.

   "Alright, how about I tickle you like _this_ ," one of the boys teased.

   Hands were swarming Alicia's skin with wicked intent, grabbing and squeezing her sides and dancing rapidly over her pits. There were at least three pairs of hands fighting for her underarms alone, two occupied with her thighs and four more torturing her stomach and sides so I could safely assume there were more people in there than with me, at least maybe ten. They were somehow even more brutal than mine; some even used their teeth to tickle her heels and toes.

   "Ahahahhahueughhaahau!!"

   The chains screamed as Alicia's body violently shook, her tongue slipping out of her mouth and bouncing along with the rest of her. She was absolutely losing it.

   "N-not there, _not there_!" she yelped; someone had discovered a sweet spot. "You can tickle me for all eternity, just _not there_!! Please!!"

   What I saw then was incredible; with every such spot found, everyone else moved to join in tickling that spot. Alicia's mind departed, stringy spit flying around her open mouth, while at least ten cadets gently and roughly alike started tickling and teasing the sensitive area with fervour akin to pure madness. They couldn't all fit so they wrestled for room, hands ending up tickling each other and some of them even falling over.

   "Welk... in," Alicia uttered weakly in-between sharp hiccups. "Help... me!"

   "Mmm... Sorry to disappoint you, Sergeant," said a voluptuous lady who was busy tantalizing her victim's feet with the tip of her tongue. "He won't come rescue you. He's a little... tied up at the moment."

   The others snickered, Alicia's eyes widening at the indication.

   "Didn't you know? You two are neighbours! So close yet so far."

   "What did you do to him!?" she cried.

   "From all the talking you're doing it sounds like you're not being tickled enough," someone interjected. After that, all I could pick up from her was screaming and I shut the slot tight. For a moment I feared they might have heard me, but the Alicia's agonized wailing drowned it out.

   Welkin Gunther... Were they keeping him as well? Both he and Alicia were key prospects on the Gallian front, so the fact that they were imprisoned like this along with myself led me to the conclusion that these people weren't Gallians after all. If so, they were a self-serving faction, but if that was the case then what could they possibly gain from this?

   According to Alicia's exam group Welkin and her were 'neighbours'. I turned to look and there was an identical door a few steps down the left side. I listened for anything in my immediate surroundings but heard only the muffled remains of Alicia's sanity. Once I'd approached the other cell door I could instead feel the slight vibrations of a male voice, drawn-out in a similar fashion. I pressed myself against the metal, shivering as I felt my nipples stiffen from the cold surface, and opened the slot.

   There was a massive, ridiculous smile on the Lieutenant's face. Ashen hair was sticking to his face from the same sweat that was steadily trickling down his naked torso. Delicate and strong hands alike squeezed and teased his well-sculpted abdomen, an inconceivable amount of fingers fighting for his protruding ribs and playing him like an instrument. Like before, it wasn't right for me to look, but I simply couldn't tear my eyes away; his body was strangely mesmerizing the way it bent and recoiled. I managed to squeeze my eyes shut only when they'd lingered upon his rigid erection, but I opened them again right away to find that it, too, was being tickled. A device of some sort had been placed upon it--something like a capsule, the insides entirely covered in small feathers. The device was emitting a soft buzzing sound and vibrated somewhat; it had been turned on, making the feathers move and spin rapidly the point where it was impossible to see them. They seemed to be covering the entirety of Welkin's hard-on and left no spot untouched, effectively brushing the most sensitive part of his body non-stop.

   One of the boys tending to Welkin's torso--his nipples, like mine, stiff and susceptible for teasing--flashed a drool-drenched grin and flipped a switch. The buzzing sound intensified tenfold and I watched as Welkin's eyes rolled up far into his skull, his back arching madly and his normally gentle voice cracking with dumbfounded cries. The device vibrated violently; it clasped his erection even harder, hugging it so tight they were practically fused together, and tickled him with a velocity unlike anything I could have imagined. As if that wasn't enough, the boy's finger slammed down on the button again and again, making the feathers accelerate and accelerate until the same fluids I'd been covered in started dripping onto an already established pool on the floor.

   "It... feelsh sho... good..." Welkin moaned, to my dismay. "M... more..."

   He was certainly given more.

   The cadets rubbed up against him and, wielding those despicable hairbrushes, pillaged and consumed his evidently sensitive upper body.

   "How does that feel?" they asked.

   "A... Amazing...!" he responded.

   Someone grabbed his chin and forced him to look at them. They proceeded to use that same manner of verbal tease which had pushed me over the edge before.

   "Does it tickle, little man?"

   "Yes...!"

   "Where? Where does it tickle?"

   "E... Everywhere!"

   "Not good enough," they said, pushing his face away with disgust. "Where?"

   "My... sides..." Welkin started weakly. "My armpits... My s-stomach! My nipples, my... my p..."

   He went silent with embarrassment. One of his assailants kneeled by him, grabbed the vibrating device and shook it hard.

   "Your _cock_? Your cock tickles?"

   "Y-yes! My... my c-cock tickles...!"

   My hand went up to my mouth at the pure crudeness of their word choices. The team only laughed.

   "Where else, boy?"

   "My feet... and... my arms and thighs and knees and ass and my...!"

   "Mmm, that does sound like everywhere. Where does it tickle the most?"

   "A-armpits," he admitted. I winced and instinctively pressed my arms down; we both shared a major weakness.

   "Interesting. Stretch them out more for me."

   Welkin obliged; I couldn't tell if he was genuinely into this or if he had been brainwashed or broken somehow, but it was an utter disgrace. He was already stretched like me and Alicia prior but he made an effort to arch back more, leaving himself as open as possible.

   I wanted to leave. Why couldn't I leave? The metal no longer felt cold and I didn't like it; I preferred freezing over feeling this hot.

   They dove in to attack him right where he was the most tender.

   "There, Lieutenant? Right there?"

   "Aahhahnn ahahahauyyes!!" he howled, his voice unstable and high-pitched.

   "Beg. Beg for more or we'll stop."

   "M-more! Please!!"

   "That's the most half-assed begging I've ever heard."

   The hands and brushes slowed down to a soft touch and the cadets plagued him gently as he shook his head back and forth, groaning up a storm.

   "Hhhaah no...! Not like that... Tickle me harder!"

   "Strange. I thought I asked you to _beg_."

   A slap, delivered straight to his face, left a big red mark on Welkin's cheek.

   Absentmindedly my hands started moving to my chest, slowly massaging and teasing the tips of my nipples as my breath grew more ragged.

   "P... please," he tried again. "Please torture me more. M-my... armpits are so ticklish, I _need_ you to tickle them."

   "Go on."

   "Please...! Don't stop, I _beg_ you, don't stop... Torture me harder, much harder, I'll do anything...!"

   This man had no shame whatsoever; was this truly Welkin Gunther? What was this place, that they were able to break someone to this extent?

   Needless to say, they honoured his wish. His face was one of pure euphoria as they chipped piece after piece of his sanity away in the form of savage tickle torture. Continuously they would slap his face, his abdomen and his behind as well as grab the device like before and shake it around, birthing the strangest most guttural of sounds from Welkin's strained throat. "Aww, what a cute, ticklish little cock," one would say while toying with it. "It can't get enough, just like you!"

   I started feeling weak and took a step back, retreating into the wall behind me. Only, it wasn't the same icy sensation of a metal surface hitting my heated body. It was another person's body.

   "Shame on you," said mister Ruthless before locking my arms in place with his own. "You ran away just to watch another show?"

   "If every other team is making this much progress, we can't have that," said Deadpan.

   I attempted to fight back but was easily thwarted when new chains clasped tightly around my ankles. A feeling worse than dread crept up on me.

   "You're dripping!" exclaimed Ruthless.

   "She's been watching other prisoners get tickled," Shy Girl noted. "Does it mean... it would count if she came from that?"

   "Well, we could always help her along the way."

   Ruthless propped me up in front of the door, forcing me to keep looking as Welkin entered climax after climax and never stopped begging for more. My feet, still toe-tied, were sturdily held in place in front of me and chained to my wrists, my legs viciously spread. Thankfully I was agile enough that this position didn't quite hurt, but it was still uncomfortable to say the least.

   "You just keep watching," said Deadpan. "We brought enough tools to last a lifetime."

   I inhaled sharply; Silent's brushes descended on my soles and started me off harshly. Even though my toes were separated, one of the cadets still pulled them back in order to stretch my skin out as much as physically possible, making the bristles hit my frail spots with ease.

   Me and Welkin screamed in unison. Even the muffled cries of Alicia's agony could be heard echoing with us as all three of us was tickled beyond recognition. Already my mind was going scratchy and white from that heavenly feeling of Silent by my feet, and for a split second--as I watched the spectacle in front of me--I understood how Welkin was feeling. If his team of cadets tickled him as good as Silent managed my soles, I would beg too.

   _What in the world am I  thinking?_

I did not enjoy this, I told myself as strictly as I could. There was no way I could ever enjoy this. Just because one of them managed to make it not feel like absolute torment, and just because that depraved Lieutenant was having the time of his life, it did not mean the same on my part.

   "Oh!! Oh yes, right there!" he howled, throwing his head back happily.

   "You want it on your feet now? Feeling sensitive?"

   "Y... yes, so sensitive...! Ah!! Th-there!"

   I exhaled into a soft moan, unbeknownst to myself. It was as if I was taking in Welkin's words as my own while I was being worked over down there myself. Whenever Silent found a good spot it sounded like the people on the other side of the door did as well, and both me and Welkin yelped in surprise each time. I started to move strangely; my hips rolled and I wanted someone to play with my breasts. They must have noticed from me shooting my chest out, because one boy in particular was happy to oblige; he began licking and feathering them right away. He wielded quite some skill; my tips shuddered with pleasure at every touch. I hardly noticed as my lips turned upwards and fluid dripped from my genitalia, like the sticky liquid consistently pouring out of the tickle device on Welkin's arousal. I imagined what it might be like to have something like that on my clitoris or nipples and my insides started burning from just the thought.

   "Ah...!" I cried, prompting Silent to speed up and cover more ground.

   It felt good, it felt so good having my feet and nipples teased like this for some reason. I hated it, I hated it so much, but watching the Lieutenant in such pure bliss as his every nook and cranny was submitted to tickle torture added to the excitement I never knew I possessed.

   "Oh... Ohhh...!" I whined.

   "More," Welkin pleaded, mirroring my thoughts. "I want it all, I want it everywhere!"

   "Maybe we should call in more people," the other team suggested. "To make sure you're _really_ tickled everywhere. Your face, even your tongue... Maybe we ought to make it tickle _inside_ you."

   A massive shockwave went through me. _Inside_. I envisioned something like that device, but with all the feathers on the outside. I imagined it slowly penetrating me as it kept swirling and accelerating, tickling my G-spot. The thought alone drove me to madness and I felt the familiar tingle in the lower parts of my stomach.

   "Oooh!!" Welkin screamed. "Oooh, I'm going to... come again!"

   The brushes spun around and around, faster and faster. The other team followed their example. Fingers, tools and devices alike went into a frenzy, going from his long, fit torso to his protruding hips and sweaty thighs down to his toes and soles, and back up again. Whenever one person left a spot for somewhere else, another was there to cover it; no place was left unscathed, yet the ticklers were always in constant movement.

   Welkin's laughter staggered and rose in power. His eyes rolled up hard and he stuck his tongue out, making by far the most ridiculous face I'd ever witnessed. All the while he kept moaning with a voice enraptured by unmitigated pleasure. Him feeling so good reached far into me, making me feel at least just as good, making me want to beg as well. I wanted those bristles to go faster and harder, I wanted my nipples teased more.

   "M... more..." I whispered without realizing it.

   "More!!" Welkin screamed, his voice cracking violently. "Mooore!!"

   "If you tickle me more..." I mumbled weakly. "I'll c-come again..."

   "Tickle me more!!" Welkin begged in turn. "I'm gonna come again!"

   "Make me come!" we cried in unison.

   I twitched.

   My eyes were still locked onto Welkin's convulsing body as I arched my back, leaving my mouth wide open in a soundless scream as he filled the silence with a wild, joyful orgasm. Nothing had ever felt so good in my entire life, and I kept that thought still in my head as my consciousness started to fail. Even after I closed my eyes and drifted off, I could still hear their voices in the distance.

   "Welkin...! Please help me!"

   "Ahahah! Don't stop! I want to come again! I want to be tickled more...!!"


End file.
